“Father, Let me be weak that I might loose my clutch on everything temporal. My life, my reputation, my possessions, Lord, let me loose the tension of the grasping hand. Even, Father, would I lose the love of fondling. How often I have released a grasp only to retain what I prized by ‘harmless’ longing, the fondling touch. Rather, open my hand to receive the nail of Calvary, as Christ’s was opened- that I, releasing all, might be releases, unleashed from all that binds me now. He thought Heaven, yea, equality with God, not a thing to be clutched at. So let me release my grasp.
Have had much struggle of soul lately- doubts as to the
truth of God’s care for the world, springing I think from so little evidence of
His power in the gospel. Comforted mightily yesterday morning by realizing that
the rest of faith is upon fact, and that especially in the Resurrection of
Christ. If he be not raised from the dead, my faith is vain.
Father, make me a crisis man. Bring those I contact to
decision. Let me not be a milepost on a single road; make me a fork, that men
must trust one way or another on facing Christ in me.”—Jim Eliot from the
Shadow of the Almighty.
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